A Birds Last Breath
by FeatherJay
Summary: For a bird life seems so free, any problems and one can just fly away. This is all Lily has ever wished for. Jay knows better. Part-human, Part-bird Jay has to battle his fight-filght instinct to find his own way of being free.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for new characters such as Rosa Evans.

The Raid

1971

11pm

Charlie Forster was cleaning up for the day. The Miami Labs were well known for their genetic experiments and the boss was inspecting the site next week. Checking the cages was merely a precaution. All experiments were either pain-crazed or drugged out. Still with the boss due only the next week, Foster noted down the condition of the contents of each cage- records were needed after all. There were five in total. The first three were genetically enhanced large cats, fierce yet with defying qualities. In cage three human eyes gazed out from the body of a mutated black panther, while cage four housed a drug-crazed chimpanzee. If Forster was a compassionate man he would be horrified by the state of the animal. Fur was patchy at best and limbs blood clotted and weak. This was not the worst feature of the pained animal. Eye sockets empty and scarred, with lids sagging permanently closed, were all the lab had to show for their enhanced eyesight experiment. Only the one sorry subject had survived.

The Professor stopped at cage five. A decade and a half of research had been carefully carried out before the construction of this creature's embryo. A mixture of genes taken from a snow petrel mixed in with dominant human genes had created their greatest genetic achievement yet. A fully functional human body blended almost flawlessly into the smooth white feathers of wings adorning the child's back. A decade of life for the child had been miserable and pain-ridden. Though taught to speak, read and write the creature did so fearfully, wary of the pain that would come from not pleasing his peers. Though his genes had combined relatively smoothly there was always some problem with growth and production. In this case the problem was physical. Though with no visual clues, the child would feel anguishing pain at regular intervals. Inhumane though it was there was no current law saying the laboratory had to do something to end the creature's pain, as they held full legal possession of their creations. Therefore this was not the most familiar pain to the child.

It was as Forster was recording the creature's vitals he noticed the movement in the corner. Paying no attention to his actions, he focused on the corner. He turned slowly.

The gun was aimed straight at his chest.

The face of Michael Evans was a set mask. Forster saw the crumbling tendons on his hand, the result of a well aimed syringe shot hitting him in the arm. Containing DNA from a Cheater it had enhanced his already matured body. Short term he was faster and stronger, his body reacting to the unknown chemicals and mutations. However injecting DNA into a matured body had not given the same effect as injecting it into an embryo. Three years later Michael Evans, main protestor and fighter for genetic hybrid rights was crumbling in his own body. He had been transformed into one of the creatures he fought his life for and fate was playing a very cruel game with him. His hands, once faster and stronger than any others were now slow and unsteady, the bones and tendons weakened and crumbling.

This, however, was not going to save the Professors life. Forster knew what they were here for. Evans and his secret ministry force. They had come to save the boy. The bird hybrid that lay crumpled behind him. The Professor could not let it happen. The creature was the result of so much planning and experiments: fifteen years worth.

They could not have him.

The syringe was ready and filled at his side; he had made sure of that as soon as he spotted movement in the corner. It was now the simple task of sliding it through the metal bars into the arm of the unsuspecting creature.

Forster kept his eyes on the gun barrel as he preformed the simple movements need to condemn the creature to a painful death. By the time Michael Evans noticed it was too late. The Professors life ended with one simple shot.

The creature whimpered. It was a soft noise in comparison to the ringing gunshot. The noise was a pain-laced one. The boy knew what had happened, but there was nowhere to hide. In a cage barely four feet he could not avoid the impending jab, signifying the pain to come. He watched through half closed eyes, unable to make any other noise, as the strangers entered the room. He could not figure that these events shaped the freedom of his future. All he could think of was the pain. He wanted it to stop, more than anything. It was with that last thought he slipped from consciousness.

Unknowns to him it was minutes later when his prison of a decade was broken open, and himself carried gently to the perimeter. Rosalie Evans looked down at the child who would, along with her daughter, help her pull through the death of her own son. She knew this was Michael's last chance to save a life, as his body was getting weaker by the day, and she was glad it was such a beautiful boy they saved.

Without waiting for the signal she apperated to 64th Street London: headquarters of the hybrid rescue team.


End file.
